


Awakening

by byesweetheart (ConstantComment)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Forest Sex, Forest Spirit Hinata, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Ritual Sex, Seduction, Size Difference, knight ushijima, that's an actual tag already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/byesweetheart
Summary: He moved through the quiet over what seemed like miles, but the landscape did not change, the air did not warm, and the light did not either, and if his steed could speak Ushijima would have asked him if they were treading circles through the forest. Ushijima noticed some moss-laden trees were starting to look rather familiar. Suddenly, the sound of fond laughter flitted by Ushijima’s ear, and he spun, gloved hand landing on the grip of his sword at his belt. But, there was no change in the terrain—no one in sight. And so, he walked on.





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> **Day 6: Size Difference**
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy Sir Ushijima of Shiratorizawa and a sneaky forest spirit!

As the night lifted and morning spilled slowly across the rolling hills, mists chased it at a creeping pace, enveloping every tree in the wood in white-grey barely penetrated by the weak light of the early spring sun. Ushijima plodded through the cool morning, through the snowmelt with his steed, Cygnus, in tow, heading northwest toward the foothills. 

Ushijima preferred to walk, not ride, so early in the morning. It helped to warm him, prepare him for the day ahead, as he made his way toward a castle in the valley beyond. There was a maiden there, whom he was to rescue. From what, he did not know, but he would meet it with armor and sword. 

Ushijima was a knight, and knights rescued fair maidens from far-off towers no matter the cost. 

But, the forest around him was eerily quiet, no birds or beasts of any size could be heard for miles, and his steed grumbled and spooked at any broken twig or patch of icy, uneven ground. It had not always been so on this journey. 

He moved through the quiet over what seemed like miles, but the landscape did not change, the air did not warm, and the light did not either, and if Cygnus could speak Ushijima would have asked him if they were treading circles through the forest. Ushijima noticed some moss-laden trees were starting to look rather familiar. 

Suddenly, the sound of fond laughter flitted by Ushijima’s ear, and he spun, gloved hand landing on the grip of his sword at his belt. But, there was no change in the terrain—no one in sight. And so, he gripped Cygnus’ reins tightly and walked on. 

Within minutes, just as he’d convinced himself he’d imagined the noise, just as he’d concluded that all eerie woods played tricks such as these, he caught a flash of orange in the corner of his eye. The laughter trickled back into the air around him, so sweet it was almost cloying, like honeysuckle on the vine, and it halted him in his tracks. 

“Who goes there?” he called, and the laughter cut out, like the shutting of a great door. Ushijima whirled around in the grey mist. Every direction he looked was the same as the last, and Ushijima realized he no longer knew which way forward was the right one. Cygnus shifted uneasily on his hooves as Ushijima slowly drew his sword. “Reveal yourself, shade!” he growled. 

A snicker echoed behind him, and Ushijima whirled around again, blade thrusting out quick as a whip. 

A boy—Or a man? Or was it either at all?—stared down the sharp edge of the sword pointed between his luminous eyes, framed by high, unearthly cheekbones, pearlescent skin and the brightest locks of hair Ushijima had ever laid eyes on. It was the distinct color, like summer sunsets, that had caught his eye moments before, and it curled around the being's forehead and ears into a corona around him as if he were underwater. His mouth held a wicked smile, behind which sharp white teeth revealed themselves as lips curled more deeply into his cheek. He wore little for the chilled air, just soft-gauzy swathes of fabric draping here and there across his body, which was unsettlingly pointy in places and achingly soft-looking in others. If Ushijima had stepped but an inch closer he would have nicked the fae little thing on his button nose. He resisted stepping an inch closer, even though something in the sprite’s eyes compelled him to. 

“So serious,” the sprite grumped with a frown Ushijima supposed mirrored his own. “So stoic and strong!” 

“Who are you?” Ushijima asked. “What are you?” 

He blinked and the sprite winked out of existence only to reappear at Cygnus’ side, spindly little fingers fluttering over the steed’s soft muzzle and clucking lightly. “A noble man and his noble beast,” he said with a sighing laugh, before tilting his head in Ushijima’s direction. “On a quest, perhaps?” 

Ushijima shifted, lowering his sword. “I am a knight from the kingdom of Sendai, and I am to rescue the fair maiden in the tower beyond the mountain,” he declared, narrowing his eyes at Cygnus’ docile response to the unholy thing in their midst. 

“Waah!” the sprite crowed like a bird and the vision of… him… flickered between smoky fragility and creamy flesh. “A fair maiden! Yes, a virgin, you think!” the sprite giggled, and the sound somehow made Ushijima’s chest clench. “Say, Sir knight… have you had all the maidens you have rescued? Spoiled them for your spoils?” 

Ushijima sucked in a breath. “Do not say such things!” 

“Or are you a maiden knight, as well?” the sprite mused, tapping at his pointy chin and winking when Ushijima scoffed uncomfortably. He moved toward Ushijima, and Ushijima realized he was barefoot. The ground he walked on seemed to soften and come to life beneath his splayed pink toes, new grass and tiny wildflowers peeking from the ground with each step he took. “Untouched in your tower as well?” he purred. Ushijima looked back to his eyes, deep pools of honey, and his stomach fluttered. 

“You may try to bewitch me, spirit, but I can still wield a weapon,” he warned, fingers tightening on his blade as he raised it again, warily. The sprite stopped, but did not seem deterred. 

“What’s your name, Sir knight?” the sprite asked. 

Ushijima swallowed. He did not know whether to be afraid or to be curious. “Ushijima. Ushijima Wakatoshi of the House of Shiratorizawa.” 

The sprite smiled at that, less wicked and more pleased, but his actions betrayed that look. He raised one small hand and traced his finger along the blade of Ushijima’s sword, pressing hard into the sharp edge. “ _Wakatoshi_ ,” he crooned, and his finger dragged along it like a caress. 

Ushijima gasped and threw his sword to the ground to catch the sprite’s hand in his, searching furiously for a deep cut, but his small fingers were whole and unnaturally warm, and now held close in his gloved hands. 

Ushijima looked up and found himself captured by those big eyes again. 

And it seemed all the blood was captured in the red of the sprite’s lips. 

The sprite stared up into his face, and as they stood silently Ushijima felt warmth seep into his bones, bringing heat back where he hadn’t realized it was missing. 

“Who are you?” Ushijima murmured down at the small, unearthly thing, so beguiling and strange. 

“Someone who must kiss you,” the sprite replied, and lifted on his toes to press plush red lips to his. 

Ushijima shuddered at the touch, body heating so quickly his skin erupted in goosebumps, and he clumsily nibbled at the sweet mouth against his with growing vigor. The sprite was pressed to him from cuisses to cuirass, naked skin fearfully tantalizing. Ushijima found himself throbbing in his linens beneath layers of leather and chainmail and plated iron in moments. “What do you want with me?” he rasped, broken, when they parted after what could have been the blink of a moment, or the vastness of an age. 

“I have your name, Ushijima Wakatoshi,” the sprite said. His other hand slipped over Ushijima’s armor, unfastening it nimbly here and there like untying a loose string. “And now I must have you.” 

Ushijima’s armor clanged to the hard ground, falling away easily like a ripe fruit pared deftly, and his layers of clothing fell shortly thereafter, pooling about him as he gaped down at the little sprite, who never looked away. 

He found himself pressed to the cold, leaf-strewn ground, but it wasn’t so cold anymore when the sprite climbed over his bare body, hands fanning out over his belly and legs folded over his spread thighs. The gauzy fabric about him slipped down over his shoulders and waist, revealing more and more pearly golden-pink temptation as as he mapped his fingers across Ushijima’s skin, eyes growing darker and wider, teeth pricking sharp into his own red lips. Ushijima’s prick rose between them, nearly as red and wanting, and it dwarfed the sprite’s hands as he wrapped both around it like a vice. 

“Why?” he croaked, when the sprite wrung him up and down until he was leaking and writhing beneath his clever hands. Leaning over Ushijima, the sprite licked into his mouth again, sucking on his tongue and coaxing moan after moan from his lips. 

“You have to wake me up,” the sprite whispered, and then he knelt up and speared himself on Ushijima’s prick, taking him in swiftly and devastatingly eager. He sheathed him again and again in tight and slick and soft heat, gauzy robes falling almost completely away into a puddle around their joined hips and revealing his own weeping prick between his splayed thighs. 

Ushijima cried out at the sight, leaking like a trickling stream into the lovely, dangerous being above him, their combined slick noisy and pooling where they joined. 

The sprite tilted his head back until the sun-kissed column of his throat revealed itself. Ushijima reached for it, calloused fingers caressing over his throat, over his sharp collarbones, pressing eagerly into his reddened nipples and down his heaving ribs and belly until he could touch him between his thighs. He held the sprite’s small, wet prick in his big hand and squeezed around it, relishing in the rapturous wails that it drew out of him, almost better than his teasing laughter moments—days—ages—ago. 

Those little sharp hips moved faster over him now, slamming down onto him to force the breath from his lungs, only to wrench a wounded cry from them again when he lifted up in a tight squeeze. He was relentless, and selfish, and when Ushijima began to beg, he grinned, stretched his arms above his head, and _laughed._ If Ushijima had his wits about him, he might have noticed the ground around them changing, shifting, and the cold and mist melting away, the winged beasts trilling their first songs and buzzing softly, the wind rustling new green leaves. 

“Say my name,” the sprite demanded as the very air became dewy and fresh, and Ushijima whimpered as he plunged into his tight heat again. The little, devilish sprite screwed down onto him, plush thighs spread wide across his hips. 

“I do not know it,” Ushijima groaned, and then, “Please, please let me—” 

The sprite hunched over him, fisting hands in his short-cropped hair, and breathed, “Shouyou. I want my name to spill from your lips when you spill inside me.” 

Ushijima cried out on a cruel twist of the sprite’s—Shouyou’s—hips, and gripped them tight when he felt himself hurtle toward the precipice. 

“Sh-shouyou,” he gasped, then louder, when he could not longer keep himself from falling, could not keep at bay the hot twist deep in his belly. “Shouyou!” 

“ _Yes,_ ” Shouyou hissed, and rode him mercilessly until he, too spilled hot over him, seed trickling over Ushijima's chest and sinking into the ground. 

Ushijima’s vision went white, but not before he saw Shouyou lean over him with a pleased smile, and press warm lips to his. 

He awoke in a sun-dappled grove of trees, soft green grass tickling at his ears as he shifted, muscles aching, in his armor. His sword lay at his side, and when he finally turned to pick it up, he spotted a dragonfly perched on the cross-guard. A warm breeze caressed over his cheek, swaying the trees gently around him, and he staggered to his feet, groggily peering about him. The forest was bursting with life, and he wondered briefly why he thought it wouldn’t be, in spring. 

A horse’s nicker drew him to a clearing nearby, where he found Cygnus grazing peacefully, his tail flicking at lazy flies. Patting the steed’s withers, he mounted with a slight grimace, and turned northwest toward the foothills. 

As he made his way out of the wood, he could have sworn he caught the sound of pleased laughter. And then, the caress of fond fingers. But, perhaps it was a songbird. Or the pleasant breeze. 

For reasons unknown to him, he was eager for the return journey. Perhaps he’d spend a little more time in this peaceful place.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments & kudos are appreciated. <3
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://byesweetheart.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/byesweetheart_)!


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